


Not a Promise

by slamncram (GettheSalt)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asgard (Marvel), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Trailer, Fix-It, Gen, Infinity Gems, M/M, Time Gem (Marvel), Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/slamncram
Summary: For his transgressions, Loki paid the price, and Thor carries the burden. After the smoke clears, everyone must nurse their wounds, and try to go on without those who have fallen. But maybe, they don't have to...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a trio of prompt fills on Tumblr. The Infinity War trailer cut me deep. Apparently so deep I'm writing angst and fix-its before the movie's even out.

This is his fault.

There’s no other way to look at it, no explanation that absolves him of the blame, or lifts his guilt. He’d known what he was doing when he’d looked at the Tesseract, in the Vault. He could have left it there, to be lost to the cosmos, dust, just like the rest of Asgard, though he knows it would have survived.

Still, he could have left it there, and hoped that things would go differently. Maybe it would have stayed adrift forever, and the Mad Titan never would have found it, but that had been a choice Loki wasn’t ready to make, and he’d taken it with him. At least on the ship, on the way to Earth, it would be safe.

That was how he’d rationalized what he’d done. The nights he’d laid next to Thor in his bed, looking at his sleeping face, and hoping that his decisions wouldn’t end with them on two sides of a jagged line, again. He’d taken the Tesseract to keep it safe, not because it had sang its siren song and he’d been helpless to resist the kind of power it promised.

If Loki returned to Earth with the Tesseract, and turned it over, maybe that would be enough to keep it out of Thanos’ hands, to put him in the good graces of the friends Thor so cherished, and to settle his brother’s mind that he wasn’t about to betray him.

He’d become predictable.

The last thing Loki ever wanted to be was predictable.

Now, standing over the bodies of the Asgardians he’d helped Thor protect, the Asgardians who had looked to him as he declared himself their  _saviour_ , Loki regretted his choices. Heimdall was leading the survivors away, over barren, craggy rock on a planet they didn’t know. Bruce was lost, Valkyrie wasn’t dead, Loki hoped, but she wasn’t moving.

And Thor was in Thanos’ grasp.

“You were warned. What would happen if you kept the Tesseract from me.”

Loki remembers that. He remembers the words of the Other, promising him that he would beg for something as sweet as pain, if he defied Thanos. Five years, he sat on Asgard, ruled over it, and kept the Tesseract in that Vault. Five years, Asgard’s defenses protected it, and protected him.

And with one wrong decision, Loki had brought that all tumbling down.

“The Asgardian or the stone.”

With Thano’s hand wrapped around his torso, two fingers pressing bruises into his neck, there’s not much Thor can do to argue. He’s struggling, and he’s been struggling, but with every movement, Thanos squeezes a little harder, and the fight goes out of his brother a little faster.

This, Loki cannot tolerate. This is worse than pain.

This is all his fault, and he knows that. He couldn’t protect the Asgardians who have died here, he couldn’t protect the friends and allies they made on Sakaar. He can’t do much to protect Thor, and he can’t protect the universe.

He was never cut out to be anyone’s saviour.

The Tesseract is warm against his fingers when he conjures it from the space its been hidden, bright in the shadow the Titan casts over him, and Loki raises it, trying not to look at Thor, not see the desperation in his eyes. Loki knows what Thor would rather him do. Run, take the Tesseract, keep it from Thanos as long as he can. Let him  _die_.

But Loki’s not strong enough to take that option. He’s spent years telling himself he could be, but when it comes down to it, when the choice is presented to him…

“Take it. Let him go. Please, just let him live.”

Thor’s still trying to fight, but he’s losing, struggling against a grip even  _he_  can’t escape, and it’s when he’s nearly unconscious that Thanos throws him, pitching him over rocks and the bodies of their people, discarded like trash, and Loki doesn’t think. He drops the Tesseract, and moves, running for Thor, but there was never any hope.

The force that hits him is like a truck, the weight of it pressing down on his back, feeling going out of his legs as Thanos leans down, and asks him a question. “You thought that would be the only price I’d have you pay? Give up the Tesseract, and you would be free to go? Did you learn nothing during our time together?”

Dimly, Loki is aware of Thor bellowing, voice hoarse. If he strains, he can see him in the distance, struggling to his feet, trying to come back.

Trying to save him, but there’s no saving him now. This has been coming since the moment he fell into Thanos’ hands, all those years ago.

“No one defies me.”

 _Close your eyes, Thor_. Loki thinks, crying out in agony as Thanos crushes him underfoot. All that strength, all his supposed immortality, and it’s something this simple, this brutal, that’s ending him. The air is leaving his lungs, his brain is filling with fog, and Thor’s voice is all he hears; distant, desperate, ineffective. Too hurt to do anything but watch while Loki dies for his crimes against a Titan who will do so much worse.

 _Close your eyes_.


	2. Chapter 2

Against all odds, they’d won.

Thor wasn’t sure that they were going to, for a very, very long time. Everything had been almost hopeless. He’d lost so many of his people, his friends, his brother. When Tony had fallen, that had seemed the end of it, but then the war had taken Steve, and the broken pieces of their team seemed to pull together in their grief. With help from their new allies, the people of Wakanda, and the Guardians, somehow, they had prevailed.

Somehow, again, they’d saved Earth.

But it was all for nothing, it felt like.

Yes, the people were safe, the universe was safe, but at what cost? Their leaders were gone, the boy, Peter, who Tony had been mentoring, was traumatized at so young an age that there were serious concerns he would ever be the same person. Allies they’d had for years were dead, leaving holes they were hopeless to fill.

And when Thor looked to tomorrow, he only saw another struggle. A struggle to find a home for the remainder of his people, a sad few that they were. A struggle to find his place in a world where the prospect of being a hero, after all the wounds he’d taken, felt daunting and unachievable.

Strange had put a few of them up in his home, for the time being. That helped. Thor felt like he could wander through the halls of this place for days and never truly find all of it, and that was what he needed, right now. Something mindless. Barnes was here, too, and Thor often found him with Steve’s shield, thinking over it. The duty of that role felt, to all of them, as though it would fall to him, now, but Thor could understand how heavy that was.

The idea of ruling over the last of his people, without Loki by his side, felt the same.

“How are you doing, today?”

Strange’s soft, calm tone interrupted Thor’s thoughts, stilling his fingers on the spines of the books he’d been seeing, but not truly reading. Books had never been something he’d collected, not to this extent. That had been Loki, and being here, in this house, sometimes reminded him too much of the brother he’d lost.

“I’m well, Doctor. Thank you for asking.” Turning, Thor mustered a smile for the warlock, ignoring the disbelief in the other’s eyes. He didn’t need someone poking and prodding at his hurts. He was doing that well enough on his own.

“Right.” The tone Strange used made it obvious he didn’t believe Thor for one second. “Well, I’ve been speaking with Barnes, Rhodes and Wilson. It seems we’re all in agreement that I should be the one to deal with where the infinity stones should be kept. Since you’re here, I thought it would be best to ask you in person. Your thoughts on the matter?”

Thor waved a hand. The last thing he was concerned about, right now, were the problems of wizards. The infinity stones were going to be separated and locked away, regardless. He didn’t care in what manner it was done, so long as it happened, now that the gauntlet was destroyed.

Strange frowned, clearly exasperated, and Thor sighed. “Whatever you think is best. You’re the… magician, around here, the one with the know-how. It’s not as though I would know what to do with the stones, to begin with. I cannot wield them, and their power is too great to be kept with what remains of Asgard.”

Now, Strange was nodding, and glancing back over his shoulder, as though someone had passed in the hallway, or he was thinking of somewhere else he could be.

“Yes, it is. The power to level planets, or give life, or bring it back. It’s too much for one planet, I agree. Especially after everyone here has lost so much. I was discussing that with the others. The abilities those stones have. They can be used for terrible destruction in the wrong hands.”

As they’d just witnessed. Thor could feel the holes where his friends and brother had been aching keenly.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your telephone calls, Doctor.” He said, abrupt, making to leave the room. He would find somewhere else in this house to be alone with his thoughts. There were plenty of places here to give himself over to them.

“Are you really going to leave without asking the question you’ve been dying to ask?”

The strength of those words wrapped around Thor’s chest like a rope, stopping him nearly mid-step, frozen in the doorway.

He should leave without asking the question. As much as he wanted the answer to be what he so desired, he couldn’t ask it, for fear of getting anything else in return. To voice it would be giving it power, and that power could crush Thor again, like the memory of Loki’s broken body on that ruined planet. Like the memory of his friends, dead in combat, dying for their home, dying for the people who both loved and hated them, in turn.

What he needed was to move on from everything that happened. He couldn’t keep dwelling on this, entertaining false hope.

“Has anyone been foolish enough to ask you?”

Those were the words that felt the safest. If Strange had been speaking with the others, even with their limited understanding of the universe, there was every chance they were holding on to the same question Thor was.

“Barnes. I wouldn’t say he entirely liked my answer, but it was good to see him have hope, again.” Strange paused, and Thor hated the way he hung in the silence, waiting for the words the other would speak next. “If I can give you that same hope, perhaps you could begin to heal.”

As strong as he was, as mighty as he claimed himself to be, it was those words that had Thor leaning a hand on the doorframe, to hold himself up. If Barnes had been given hope…

“Can you use the stones?”

A beat. “With some practice, yes.”

With some practice. Not a promise, there, but the floodgates were open, now. “In time, could you use them to undo what’s been done? To bring them back?”

“I want to make every effort to try.”

The invisible rope around his chest felt so tight that it nearly felt hard to breathe, his next words coming out of him in a whisper.

“Even my brother? As dangerous as you once deemed him to be?”

The silence between the words Thor had spoken, and the answer he needed Strange to give, seemed to stretch on into nothing. The house made its sounds around them, Thor’s breath came in a rush, and Strange’s clothing rustled as he moved, his hand coming to rest on Thor’s shoulder.

“Yes. Even him.”


	3. Chapter 3

How long had it been? Their wounds had healed, the rebuilding efforts had begun, and with the help of T’Challa, Thor had been able to establish New Asgard on the cliffside in Norway. He’d once sat there with his father and brother, and been told to remember that place. That it could be home. His father’s memory had told him that Asgard was wherever their people stood, and though there were so few of them left, they stood, now. Citizens of Earth, neighbours and friends to humans.

Barnes had taken up the shield, as everyone had known he would, and together with Wilson and Rhodes, they had gone on to helm the New Avengers, in Tony and Steve’s honour. The boy was doing better, moving on. He had a fighting spirit, it was obvious why he’d been the one that Stark had chosen to mentor. Little by little, they were all healing, inside and out. The Guardians had returned to space, but had visited not so long ago, with updates on the Xandarian relocation, and to help Strange with getting rid of at least one of the infinity stones.

Time had passed, and the world had turned on, and gradually, Thor had begun to heal. Standing on the balcony of the new palace – really, it was more of a large  _hall_  but the Asgardians were set in their ways – breathing in the crisp ocean air, he could, for a time, forget the grief that hung over his every day.

Strange was still working with the stones, he knew that much. He got updates, somewhat regularly, but for his own sanity, he refrained from asking. Strange hadn’t made a promise. He was too wise to do that, and to have all of them fall apart again when he wasn’t able to do what they hoped. Undoing what had been done, bringing back lives that had been lost, without causing more destruction, or resurrecting Thanos would be difficult. It may just be impossible.

It was better not to get his hopes up at all.

“Your majesty.”

Valkyrie’s voice was a welcome one, and Thor looked her way. She knew well enough to stand on his good side, now. Dressed in Midgardian clothes, she looked smaller than she did in her armour, but no less formidable, her dark hair loose over her shoulders as she crossed her arms and leaned on the railing, joining him.

“Didn’t expect to see you up and about, this early. Not with the way you were drinking last night.” Thor smiled, and Valkyrie rolled her eyes, looking away from him, out at the new city, small as it was.

“No, but I had something to do this morning, and I wanted to make sure I was awake in time for it to happen.”

Valkyrie’s never been one to speak cryptically. Not unless it was about what she lost at the hands of his megalomanical sister, and that was understandable. They’d spent many long nights in the palace’s council room, sharing a bottle and talking things over, their pasts, the future, where they fit in the new grand scheme of the universe. She was a good, loyal friend to have, when he’d lost so many others.

And because they’d spent so much time talking, Thor knew that, when she spoke cryptically, there was something to be hidden. Looking over at her, though, and trying to read her face, he didn’t find the quiet grief he normally did when she didn’t speak in absolutes or blunt truths. Instead, he found an expectant smile.

That made him even more suspicious.

“You’re supposed to ask what it was I had to do, King Thor.”

And even  _more_  suspicious.

“And why am I  _supposed_  to ask, Val? What have you been up to, this early in the–”

“–Thor.”

That voice, he hadn’t heard in nearly a year. It sounded so out of place in the world he now knew that for a second, Thor doubted he’d actually heard it. Parts of him he’d thought long dead disputed that, however, flaring to life, pain giving away to what would only be overoptimistic hope.

He’d lost him for real this time, he was dead and gone.

“What’s the saying they have here? ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost’,” Valkyrie said, her body turned towards his, now. She glanced back towards the balcony doors, and then up at Thor again. “You haven’t even looked at him yet, though. And I don’t think he’s a ghost. I pinched him to make sure before I let your friend open that portal to send us back here.”

It seemed impossible. Thor had given up little bits of hope, every day.

Now, when he turned, he didn’t find an empty doorway. That probably would have crushed him, all over again. He hadn’t been haunted by Loki, and he didn’t want to start being haunted now.

And the figure in the doorway was no apparition, no trick of his mind. Thor knew that already. Valkyrie had gotten up early, this morning, to go and meet with Strange, at his summons, and bring something back to Thor that Thor was so damn sure was lost to him forever, Strange’s tinkering with the stones aside.

Standing in the doorway, looking out of place in a world he’d not yet been a part of, was Loki. Whole, intact, well. Dark hair curling over his shoulders, his eyes looking Thor over, dressed in clothing that must have been given to him by Strange, because they weren’t the dramatic, fancy fare that Loki could usually be caught wearing.

Smiling.

“Thor.” Loki repeated, that smile getting wider. “Why are you looking at me like that? She just told you, I’m not a ghost.” He spread his arms out at his sides. “I’m here.”

Thor wasn’t aware he was moving until he was already across the balcony, pulling Loki into his arms, solid and real, smelling vaguely of mint, and the cloying smell of Strange’s home, and under that, like home, like familiarity.

Dimly, Thor was aware of Valkyrie saying she’d give them time, aware of her footfalls leaving the balcony and drifting away. Most all of his attention, however, was taken up with Loki; Loki’s arms around him, Loki’s face in his neck, Loki breathing against his skin.

“I thought I lost you forever.” Thor whispered, turning his face into Loki’s hair, kissing against his temple. “And this time it wasn’t a trick. You died in front of my eyes, at  _his_  hand.”

“Yes, well…” Loki pulled back, his fingers gently brushing over Thor’s jaw, under his eyepatch, over his cheeks. Like he was reacquainting himself with his face after so long. “It seems that second-rate sorcerer is rather adept at one thing, at least.”

Shaking his head, Thor muttered, “don’t worry about that, right now.” His fingers curled under Loki’s chin, tipping it up, though he hadn’t needed the nudge. Loki was already leaning into him, their mouth meeting, gentle and slow, Loki’s fingers curling in the lapels of Thor’s jacket, keeping him close, like he had been the one who’d slipped away, and not the other way around.

After so long thinking Loki was lost to him, Thor had gotten him back, only to lose him in a much more soul-destroying way. Strange’s magic had never been a promise, and Thor had slowly been preparing himself to mourn Loki for the rest of his long life.

Pulling away from the kiss, now, and seeing Loki’s bright, cunning eyes once again, Thor was glad he’d asked the question in that library, so long ago. If he hadn’t asked, maybe Strange wouldn’t have thought to pull Loki from wherever his soul wandered.

If he hadn’t asked, maybe Thor would have gone on living with the shadow of Loki at the back of his mind, beloved and dearly missed.

Now, with Loki in front of him, alive, the two of them standing on the balcony of the new palace of Asgard, on the cliff their father had told them to remember, Thor felt whole, once more.


End file.
